Light
by Carinthe
Summary: Darkness descends upon Atlantis when Fate steals one of their brightest lights... John POV
1. Dusk

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis, its characters and all related entities are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and The SciFi Channel. Yours truly only owns an overimaginative mind. Story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.

AN: This will have 4 parts (some 3400 words in total), be probably irritatably mushy and was written during a severe case of sleep-deprivation. Ergo, you have been warned... If I haven't scared you away yet: happy reading!

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_I will love the light for it shows me the way.  
Yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars..._

_- Og Mandino_

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**LIGHT**

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**1. Dusk**

-

_People are like stained-glass windows.  
They sparkle and shine when the sun is out,  
but when the darkness sets in  
their true beauty is revealed  
only if there is light from within._

_- Elisabeth Kübler-Ross_

-

"… Although he may not have been expressed many religious beliefs during his life, I myself am convinced that he's not simply gone and lost forever. I truly believe a part of him, the part that made him unique and wonderful and vibrant, is still out there, somewhere. Maybe not in the Milky Way or Pegasus galaxy. Those places now seem so dark without him. All that remains now is an empty shell. The spark that has brought it very much to life is now gone. Not extinguished. Just passed beyond our grasp. And I'm sure it's now brightly illuminating its new world, wherever that may be...

Requiem... Rest... You have deserved it. Sweet silent rest in a land of hazy memories and long lost loves. Finally at peace with the universe. Because God knows what two galaxies have thrown at you… And how you threw it back, with equal force. Reaction to many a foul action, saviour of worlds, and souls. You kept us going when we had nowhere to run, you found a way where there was none, and you gave your life so all of us could live.

You have earned your rest. Sleep now, we will keep watch, and our hearts will never forget.

We will miss you, Rodney McKay. But we will remember; and that is how we will keep your spark alive forever…

Goodbye Rodney… Keep a watchful eye on us, like you always did…

Until we next meet…"

Elizabeth choked on the last word, tears flowing freely from puffy red eyes. She had kept her dignity as good as anyone could have expected of her, and then some. But now, now that she didn't have to be strong anymore, the full realization had finally dawned upon her.

John silently gathered her in his arms, shielding her from sympatheticly but nosy onlookers.

The image of the mangled, motion-less and very clearly life-less McKay was burned into his retina, discouraging him from closing his own eyes to shut out the world. He doubted the nightmares would ever truly end.

With moist eyes he gazed unseeingly at the blurry outline of the stargate. He was only vaguely aware of the soft whimpering of dr. Kusanagi desperately crying her eyes out against Zelenka's already dripping wet shirt. He felt mute, his head ached with unshed tears and his heart was constricting painfully in his chest.

Rodney was gone. No more snarky remarks, boasting comments or whining complaints. Also, no more brilliant quipping, trading barbs or friendly banter. No more ingenious plans, last-minute rescues or foolish heroics to save their collective asses. No more stubbornness and tenacity he could cling on to defy every situation flung their way. No one left to irritate the hell out of him, but also to respect his privacy and to understand his silence in a way no one else ever had.

His best friend in two galaxies was gone, and John Sheppard was seriously contemplating following him even across the last limit.

Night was upon Atlantis...


	2. Night

**2. Night**

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_When you have come to the edge of all the light that you know  
and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown,  
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen:  
There will be something solid to stand on  
or you will be taught to fly._

_-Patrick Overton_

-

The evening came quietly, darkness fell over Atlantis as the night approached on wings of gentian blue.

It was truly a spectacular sunset, a supernova of hues colouring the darkening sky and reflecting magnificently in the ocean.

Rodney would have loved this sunset.

Few knew that the scientist used to sneak out sometimes, with the ever-present cup of steaming hot coffee and a power bar or two, to sit on this very same balcony and watch the sunset. John had once caught him by surprise, and had shared as many sunsets as he had possibly could since then. It was a way to unwind after a mission, to talk out any misconceptions between them, to strengthen their bond as friends.

And, as he was standing at the railing, peering at the fading rays of an alien sun, he could imagine Rodney sitting behind him, installed comfortably in one of the loungers they had smuggled up there, virtually purring as he sipped his coffee and munched on his snack.

He could stretch luxuriously any time now, and discard the comfy warmth of his thick wool blanket to stand quietly beside John in the chill of the last ray of daylight.  
The, he would effectively break the magic of the moment by yawning and muttering about getting back to work. And before he would strut away, he would in his typical circumvent and people-awkward way wish the major a good night rest and casually would hint as to when he might come to enjoy another sunset-watch.

But this time, the last light died and no one came to stand next to him. John glanced back at the empty lounger, and the emptiness in his heart became once more overwhelming. He then looked down, to the waves breaking at the foot of the tower. If the fall alone didn't kill him, the wave break certainly would.

To be taken by the waves. A poetic ending for a surfer.

Much less violent than being electrocuted by an energy-sucking darkness. Much quicker than having your brain being gnawed on by hundreds of miniature robots.

No one had ever complimented Rodney for being brave, probably thinking the self-centred scientist made more than up for that by congratulating himself very verbosely. They hadn't understood it had only made him more insecure about himself and his place in the expedition. Even when his heroics became ever more foolishly, no one had bothered to verbally and explicitly affirm his invaluable contribution. Sure, Elizabeth always told him 'good job!', Ford would give him a pat him on the back, Teyla would give him her special smile, Zelenka's eyes would gleam proudly, Beckett would do the mother-hen fussing.  
He, John, would give him his trademark crooked grin, and joke the stress and danger away, unwittingly minimizing the whole experience.

They all assumed Rodney would understand the non-vocal expressions of their pride and gratitude.

But Rodney probably never really had.

They all knew he was socially challenged, to put it mildly, but John was probably the only one who had the slightest inkling it was due to the horrible childhood his best friend had suffered. Hurt and betrayal had turned him away from other people, and ultimately given him the impression he could only rely on himself. His own insecurities had long been deeply buried underneath thick shields of arrogance, and by focussing on himself, he had never really learned to interpret other people's projected emotions.

Yet every time Rodney had opened to John just a little, John had pulled away fast, because it brought back painful memories of his own past he was unwilling to revisit. Only now did he realize how much the rejection must have hurt Rodney. Now he realized a lot of things. Now that it was too late…

Night had fallen almost completely, but the darkness that had settled in his heart was much darker. The waves called to him, tempting him like a beautiful siren with their breaking voices.

He swung his legs over the railing.

Swaying his legs slightly, he kept his balance mostly by gripping the railing with numb hands.

It would be so easy to let go.

Easy like the flip of a coin that had once decided to send him to this fascinating new world. Maybe now the time had come to follow the coin's other side…

Elizabeth had worriedly admonished him many times about his seemingly suicidal tendencies in the face of danger. Little did she know how many times he had genuinely _hoped_ to die, honourably and heroically, yes, but still end his life in a way he chose to.

Rodney, however, had slowly started to change his ideas on the topic. At their very first meeting, Rodney had unknowingly sparked a memory John had buried deep in his scarred soul, and had over time brought back feelings John thought he could never possess again.  
The love for a brother. The kind of unconditional protectiveness, devotion, tenderness and understanding that is the most precious jewel a family can have.  
A deep bond that can be stretched and bend fiercely, but will never break.

That John thought could never break.

And that had now been broken for the second time, when he had lost another brother.

One lonely tear escaped his tight control.

He couldn't return to that lonely realm of despair and anguish anymore. He couldn't live with the blame of having killed the one who had saved his own life…

He swallowed convulsively. They always told him he was brave, yet right now he was contemplating the coward way out.

Rodney had far more courage than John. Rodney had stared death in the face many a time before, and had never looked away. Sure, he would ramble and snark and whine and panic, but in the end he would never ever just give up.

A sudden wind rustled the leaves of the plant on the balcony behind him. A chill crept along his spine.

And shame washed over John.

Rodney would be ranting like mad at him if he was there, huffing about dim-witted, self-depreciating air force goons with ridiculous abandonment issues, who were too cowardly to see how important they were in other people's lives.  
_'I'm not the centre of the universe, Major, although -of course- I play an undeniably important part in it, but there_ are _other people around you who would be very hurt if they would have to scrape your ungrateful but off the foot of this tower. Not to mention the fact that they would_ need _you to occasionally pull off the crazy stuff no one else is insane enough of doing, especially since I'm no longer around to provide them with ingenious plans that would offer a more comfortable and less adrenaline-consuming alternative.'_

John quickly clambered back to the safety of the balcony, effectively quieting down his 'inner Rodney voice' a bit. Not that he would get it to shut up completely. Not that he would want it, either. It was comforting to keep some part of Rodney alive, even if only in his own mind.

His resolve had returned.

He would honour Rodney's memory, by trying his damnest to stay alive as long as he could, no matter what Fate threw at him.

And like there was now one tiny star visible in the night time sky, there was a spark kindling in his heart.

He looked back at the lounger and retrieved the haphazardly tossed aside blanket. He knew it was a bright red, but night had stolen most of the colour. Rubbing the soft fabric with his thumb, he noticed it smelled like coffee and the vague scent of aftershave.

And suddenly, he didn't feel so alone anymore.

He could almost hear Rodney's voice wishing him 'good night' and 'see you tomorrow'.

And he whispered into the darkness: "Sleep peacefully, Rodney, we will take care of your work."

John took one last lingering look at the small star before turning to the doors, still clutching the blanket close. "See you tomorrow…"

Tomorrow, a new dawn would break.


	3. Dawn

AN: _I'd like to take a moment to thank my two reviewers: _Irresistibly desired _and_ Mackenise Jackson_. You guys made my day. Really! I came home, tired from work, and when I read your comments, I just felt the irresistable urge to rework this part a bit (made it twice as long as it originally was...) before posting it. Hope you continue to like it... I really appreciate your feedback. Because up till now, I had no idea if I was doing things the wrong way, and I can only improve if you hand me some pointers..._

AN2: _Thanks to_ CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocurfor _some spelling mistakes have now been fixed._

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**3. Dawn**

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_Sadness flies on the wings of the morning  
and out of the heart of darkness comes the light._

_- Jean Giraudoux_

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"Dr. Weir, we have a problem!"

The breathless voice suddenly erupting from their radios made John's heart skip a beat. Again.

John looked on sympathetically as Elizabeth's shoulders sagged even further. "Yes, doctor Trey?"

"Power levels at the east pier are dropping steeply. If we don't find a way to stop the power from leaking, that section is in serious danger of flooding!" The panic in the scientist's voice was obvious, and in the background John could discern the anxious babbling of some of his colleagues.

"The east pier too?" Elizabeth whispered quietly, not questioning dr. Trey's assessment but rather requesting an explanation from whatever Higher Power had decided to besiege them with this seemingly endless chain of disasters that had started with the grievous loss of their chief scientist.

Another voice mingled in the conversation, this one haughty and annoyed, and for a second John's heart leapt up. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Trey. We've been experiencing disturbing power fluctuations all day already. The east pier is only a recent but relatively minor addition to an already huge problem. At this rate, it's only a matter of hours before Atlantis is back on the bottom of the sea…"

But no further comment was forthcoming. No brilliant scheme to save their buts again.

John's heart plummeted back down, settling too heavy in his chest again.

Kavanaugh was no McKay. Although they both shared the egocentrical 'I'm light years smarter than you' attitude, in John's eyes only McKay had earned the right to behave like that. Because he _was_ a frickin' genius. Had been.

Rodney would have made a snarky comment too. But at least he would have spouted off a series of clipped commands right thereafter, which in some bizarre way had always calmed the other scientists and galvanised them into life-saving actions. His overconfident tone of voice would leave no room for doubt and effectively stop the others from –as his Inner Rodney smoothly supplied - 'wasting perfectly valuable time coming up with well-meant but eventually utterly useless ideas'.

Which was exactly what they were doing at this very moment.

John mentally shook his head at the cross-fire of scientific techno-babble that had erupted over the radio. Kavanaugh's nasal voice was easily identifiable amongst the ruckus, and John asked himself how he could possibly ever have thought it had been Rodney's, if even for a second.

Unbidden, a memory of better times floated lazily into his mind. One night, after their customary sunset-watch, he and Rodney had been ambling their way over to the commissary for an evening snack, as usual keeping up an easy friendly banter along the way. Until something had effectively shocked them into silence.

Rodney hadn't commented at all, hadn't even uttered a single word, which was a highly unusual situation for his loquacious persona. Instead, he had turned on his heels and rushed to the nearest transporter so fast John was sure the skid marks were still marring the corridor's floor. Only when John had caught up with him and the transporter's doors were safely closed, he finally allowed his tight facial muscles to relax.

And had fallen into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, that had tears of mirth streaming from his eyes and his knees buckle so he had crashed into John, holding his aching sides for dear life. It turned out that Rodney McKay's laughter was highly contagious, as it soon had doubled John up with laughter too. They must have presented quite a silly picture there, writing on the floor of a transporter, gasping desperately for breath.

Rodney had been the first to actually get back some measure of dignity. But the twinkle of merriment had still been dancing in his clear blue eyes as he had looked at John. "Did you see that? That was beyond hilarious… God, I wish I had had my camera with me…"

"See what?" John had managed to choke out. "Actually I barely saw Kavanaugh standing in his door opening before you tore off like the devil was chasing you!"

Rodney had given him a crooked grin, his eyes still twinkling full force. "You didn't see the best part then… Kavanaugh wasn't actually standing_ casually_ in his door opening, he was more like _desperately_ leaning out of it, trying to reach for the door's control panel. All the while trying to keep the fabric of his trousers - which our self-proclaimed genius has apparently managed to get stuck between the closed door in some obscure way I _so_ do not want to know the details of - anyway, trying to keep it from ripping apart even _further_…"

John's eyes had widened at the implied meaning, and he had been feeling a new fit of laughter bubbling up "Further?"

Rodney had smiled broadly: "Let's say it was first quarter on an unclouded night."

In the end, they had needed all of 5 minutes to take a perfectly functioning transporter to the commissary, and had gotten suspicious looks from Carson when they had told the eagle-eyed doctor that their acute shortness of breath was merely the result of a very rigorous work-out. The unusual grin that would suddenly appear on Rodney's face in the days thereafter had frightened many of his ignorant co-workers.

Yes, those had been the days…

God, how he missed that crooked grin and their shared mirth.

Before he could sink any deeper into the pool of misery he was wading into, Elizabeth's 'command voice' broke up the argument that was still going on loudly over the radio. "Silence, please!"

Sure she now had the full attention of everyone, she continued in a softer yet still strict voice. "Keep on trying to find out what is causing those power fluctuations…"

She was cut off rather abruptly by a frustrated Kavanaugh: "Dr. Weir, we _have_ been doing just that all night, and quite frankly we have run out of ideas. We cannot trace it back to any hardware malfunctioning and the Atlantean interface system is no great help either!"

John couldn't quite prevent a small grin from creeping up his face as his Inner Rodney dryly remarked 'That's because you're entirely too daft to properly understand the simplicity of Atlantean _door_ controls, never mind the vastly more complex intricacies of the _power_ generating units…'

Elizabeth didn't notice, as she was currently using all her concentration to try and calm down the frightened scientists. Finally, she turned to her acting head of the science staff. "Dr. Kavanaugh, please inform me of our options?"

Kavanaugh sounded slightly hysterical as he pressed his point: "We cannot hope to save the city, dr. Weir, we should start evacuating to the alpha-site right now! As a matter of fact, I suggest I take one of the first jumpers to set up some preliminary arrangements and as a member of the senior staff coordinate the evacuation from there."

'Coward!' John's mind screamed loudly. Rodney would never even have contemplated leaving the city to fend for itself until the very last resort. _He_ had been prepared to sit out a monster storm in the hopes of pulling off a daring and doubtlessly dangerous plan.

The fight seemed to have left Elizabeth. "Fine, dr. Kavanaugh, you will be in charge of the evacuation."

"Fine, Kavanaugh out." The bastard sounded awfully smug as he signed off, John seethed quietly.

Elizabeth sighed and spoke into her microphone again. "Dr. Kusanagi, how is the rescue mission coming along?"

A squeaky little voice answered frustratedly, the Asian accent thickened by obvious distress: "We can't find signal, dr Weir. We try to broaden range of sensors, but interface not working properly!"

Elizabeth closed her eyes wearily, but the small Japanese doctor wasn't quite finished yet: "With permission, dr. Weir, my team wish not evacuate until last moment. We continue searching for signal as long as possible…"

Elizabeth's green eyes looked up at John's, and he saw a deep gratitude, and the tiniest spark of hope within. It didn't particularly surprise him that Kusanagi's impromptu created 'team' consisted of exactly those scientists that had worked most often with Rodney in the past. Apparently, not only Rodney's laughter had been contagious.

"All right, keep trying. We need to get that team home safely…" She said encouragingly.

What she really meant, John figured, was 'Get Zelenka back on Atlantis to solve this mess before the waves close in over our heads!'…

John himself would gladly give up an arm if it could bring the wild-haired Czech genius back. But there was simply nothing _he_ could do, and it frustrated him to no end. There was really no one here on Atlantis who could do anything. This time they were in way over their heads. This time, there was no McKay to make the impossible happen.

He sorely missed the Canadian's boundless energy, his exuberant confidence and his lightening quick mind. They all did. John sighed. Guess it took losing him to appreciate how truly blessed they had been before. How easy was it now to overlook his flaws, to look past the snarkiness and arrogance and see the wonderfully complicated person behind.

But it seemed Fate had finally caught up with Rodney McKay. Had finally made him pay for all the many times he had defied her.

Although John had no second guesses about _not_ jumping of the balcony, he now acutely felt it had merely been a matter of delayed execution. And as he berated himself for loosing hope, he silently begged for Rodney's forgiveness for giving up so easily. God knows the scientist had been too bloody stubborn to let anything stop him from accomplishing his self-appointed mission of saving the day.

A shrill alarm shattered his thoughts.

Lights flitted within their naquada encasing.

A wormhole sprung to live, bright and vibrating with life.

"Unscheduled off-world activation."

John followed at Elizabeth's heel as she rushed into the control room, his gut feeling warning him that this latest threat would be their undoing.

Never in his life had he been so ecstatic about being wrong.

Nothing on earth could compare with the tingling anticipation he felt at the gate technician's mystified voice: "Receiving an IDC. It's dr. McKay's…"

Elizabeth looked equally startled, but the sceptic look growing on her face made John act swiftly. Her outcry only fuelled the spark inside him "No, Major, it can't be! It's a trick!" But before she managed to push him away from the control panel and reactivate the shield, the wormhole had already disgorged its traveller.

Nothing in two galaxies could compare with the glorious relief he felt when he skipped down the gate room stairs.

Their unbidden visitor looked absolutely horrible, liberally coated with mud, blood and a particularly venomous shade of green goo John didn't even want to identify. His clothes were in tatters and there was absolutely no telling what their original state had been. His face was completely unrecognizable behind the mask of dirt, but the clear vibrant blue eyes told John more than any DNA test.

And nothing, absolutely nothing on this plane of existence could remotely compare with the joy he felt when hugging his best friend close.

At first, Rodney was stiff and unresponsive, but he slowly started to relax and lean into the hug. Until John suddenly noticed he himself was now bearing most of the Canadian's weight. Slowly, he sank to the floor, gently cradling the now limp body. Weary blue eyes smiled up at him before fluttering shut. A sob from behind him made him look up, for the first time noticing Elizabeth standing there pale and trembling.

Her lips formed a word her vocal cords refused to utter, but John read easily. 'Rodney'

And he gave her his biggest grin, the one that held a power unmatched even by 3 ZPMs.

He was only vaguely aware of panicked voices demanding help over the radio. He no longer had no hope. Rather the opposite, he felt he could easily take on the entire wraith armada single-handedly at his moment.

Because, who was he to despair?

Rodney had returned to them.

_How_ was not important at this moment.

Just that he _had_.

That he had made the impossible reality after all.

Saving Zelenka and his team, and preventing Atlantis from sinking seemed small insignificant feats in comparison to returning from the death.

John was fully confident Rodney would fix it.

And of course he eventually did.

Saved yet another day...

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AN: _You didn't_ really _think I'd let Rodney die, did you? Or well, I would have him die and come back to life right thereafter (defibrillators come in really handy...), but my stories never -ever- have a truly 'bad ending'. Speaking about endings, I will try to post the fourth and last part tomorrow evening (Belgian time, that is). _


	4. Day

AN: _So I said I would be posting the final chapter today... But actually, your great comments have given me some extra (tiny little) ideas I'd like to incorporate in this. Alas, I worked late today and had no time to properly rewrite this chapter -yet. With the long weekend coming up, I would not have been able to post again until tuesday, so I'm going to hand you a compromise here. I'll post the original ending today, and the 'revamped' ending somewhere next week. _

_One more little side note: Our favourite Scottish physician has a guest appearance in this part, but I couldn't quite get the accent down right in writing. If anyone has any pointers, that would be very helpful..._

A major thank you goes to all the people who have reviewed. You guys are great! You sparked my imagination into overdrive...

_Happy Easter!_

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**4. Day**

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_Into my heart's night  
Along a narrow way  
I groped; and lo! the light,  
An infinite land of day._

_- Rubaiyat of Rumi_

-

"Carson…!"

The voice was soft and scratchy, but unmistakably held the plaintive whining quality of a recovering Rodney McKay.

John grinned from behind the privacy curtain where he was currently hiding, quite content to stay and just listen for a bit.

"Rodney?" The answering burr was as patient as ever, but held just a touch of long-suffering.

"It's yellow!" Rodney complained affronted.

"Huh?" Carson's recent chronic lack of sleep seriously didn't help in figuring out the quirks of brilliant astrophysicists.

"The Jell-O!" Rodney huffed in a 'duh' sort of way.

"Aye, so what of it?" Carson sighed.

"Hello! Deadly allergic to lemons, here… Did the word anaphylactic shock escape your voodoo medicine text books?" John just could imagine the way the scientist would be puffing himself up, crossing his arms and glaring heartily at the hapless doctor.

"Ouch…" The soft moan caught John off guard, and he nearly stepped around the privacy curtain.

"Easy, lad. That arm's still on the mend. You might wish to think twice about crossing yer arms any time soon." Carson gently admonished, undoubtedly now hovering over the pissed-of scientist, fussing for all his worth and secretly happy as a clam to have his least accommodating patient safely back under his watchful eye.

Rodney grumbled something unintelligible.

Carson carried on imperturbable: "Besides, yellow Jell-O does nae have any kind of citrus fer ingredient, so it'll be quite safe fer you to enjoy."

"Enjoy! Carson, I think I could _die_ of a psychosomatic reaction to _thinking_ I'm eating something citrus-related!" Rodney whined in his most petulant voice.

A sigh indicated the doctor's defeat. "Aye, Rodney. In your unique case, that would definitely be a possibility… I'll get you some other Jell-O."

"Not the green one!" Rodney voiced quickly.

"Huh? Wha's wrong with the green ones?" Carson asked bemusedly.

"Green's a mixture of yellow and blue, classic colour theory." Rodney stated confidently; "No yellow, not even if it's sneakily diluted with blue."

Another sigh. "Fine, no green either. Nurse?"

"Oh, Carson." Rodney smoothly intersected. "No blue either."

John chuckled inaudibly from behind the screen, thoroughly amused by the whole situation.

"Blue has nae got yellow in it, does it?" Carson ventured tentatively.

"Of course not," Rodney huffed, "but it strongly reminds me of radioactive waste products, and I'd prefer to keep my virility intact."

A badly disguised female snort told John the bidden nurse was now following the conversion as well.

It was a testament to how much Carson had been affected by Rodney's 'death' earlier that he didn't loose his already sorely tried patience. "No problem, lad, we'll just go fer some other dessert… without any citrus, of course. Nurse, if you'd check with the commissary fer …?"

"I like the red." Rodney cut him off again.

"Excuse me, Rodney?" Carson was a bit slow on the uptake. Of course, two days of trying to keep up with Atlantis' most demanding patient explained a lot.

"Red Jell-O is nice." Rodney said matter-of-factly.

The doctor's deep bone-weary sigh told John that Rodney was very likely to be discharged very soon.

Yep, everything was slowly getting back to normal, or -well- at least as normal as things went in the Pegasus galaxy.

John couldn't keep his merriment to himself much longer and sneaked quietly back into the hallway, where he had a barely controlled fit of laughter. It wasn't even that funny, definitely not by 'Rodney standards', but it just felt incredibly good to be able to laugh again. And he so he laughed. Laughed all the worries and sadness away. Laughed until his sides ached and he was desperately gasping for breath. Only then did he calm down, and did his brain start functioning properly again.

With a silly grin still plastered on his face, John went to his quarters and retrieved a bright red blanket. He patted it affectionately, like a good luck charm at a job well done, and carried it with him through the sun-lit corridors of Atlantis all the way through to a desolate balcony with two loungers and an alien pot plant.

There would be a beautiful sunset this evening, and he was planning on enjoying every moment of it with his brother...


	5. Day Alternative Ending

AN: _The 'revamped' ending. Starts out the same, but it's somewhat longer and hopefully not too mushy. I hope it makes some sense, as I wrote this pretty late atnight... You can decide for yourself whichever ending you like best (let me know?). _

_I hope you had at least half as much fun reading this story as I had writing it... Finally another big thank you to all the people who have reviewed, your comments have effectively doubled the size of this story to twice the original one... _

_And stay tuned, if you like, 'cause there are more bunnies hopping around..._

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**4. Day**

Into my heart's night  
Along a narrow way  
I groped; and lo! the light,  
An infinite land of day.

_- Rubaiyat of Rumi_

"Carson…!"

The voice was soft and scratchy, but unmistakably held the plaintive whining quality of a recovering Rodney McKay.

John grinned from behind the privacy curtain where he was currently hiding, quite content to stay and just listen for a bit.

"Rodney?" The answering burr was as patient as ever, but held just a touch of long-suffering.

"It's yellow!" Rodney complained affronted.

"Huh?" Carson's recent chronic lack of sleep seriously didn't help in figuring out the quirks of brilliant astrophysicists.

"The Jell-O!" Rodney huffed in a 'duh' sort of way.

"Aye, so what of it?" Carson sighed.

"Hello! Deadly allergic to lemons, here… Did the word anaphylactic shock escape your voodoo medicine text books?" John just could imagine the way the scientist would be puffing himself up, crossing his arms and glaring heartily at the hapless doctor.

"Ouch…" The soft moan caught John off guard, and he nearly stepped around the privacy curtain.

"Easy, lad. That arm's still on the mend. You might wish to think twice about crossing yer arms any time soon." Carson gently admonished, undoubtedly now hovering over the pissed-of scientist, fussing for all his worth and secretly happy as a clam to have his least accommodating patient safely back under his watchful eye.

Rodney grumbled something unintelligible.

Carson carried on imperturbable: "Besides, yellow Jell-O does nae have any kind of citrus fer ingredient, so it'll be quite safe fer you to enjoy."

"Enjoy! Carson, I think I could _die_ of a psychosomatic reaction to _thinking_ I'm eating something citrus-related!" Rodney whined in his most petulant voice.

A sigh indicated the doctor's defeat. "Aye, Rodney. In your unique case, that would definitely be a possibility… I'll get you some other Jell-O."

"Not the green one!" Rodney voiced quickly.

"Huh? Wha's wrong with the green ones?" Carson asked bemusedly.

"Green's a mixture of yellow and blue, classic colour theory." Rodney stated confidently; "No yellow, not even if it's sneakily diluted with blue."

Another sigh. "Fine, no green either. Nurse?"

"Oh, Carson." Rodney smoothly intersected. "No blue either."

John chuckled inaudibly from behind the screen, thoroughly amused by the whole situation.

"Blue has nae got yellow in it, does it?" Carson ventured tentatively.

"Of course not," Rodney huffed, "but it strongly reminds me of radioactive waste products, and I'd prefer to keep my virility intact."

A badly disguised female snort told John the bidden nurse was now following the conversion as well.

It was a testament to how much Carson had been affected by Rodney's 'death' earlier that he didn't loose his already sorely tried patience. "No problem, lad, we'll just go fer some other dessert… without any citrus, of course. Nurse, if you'd check with the commissary fer …?"

"I like the red." Rodney cut him off again.

"Excuse me, Rodney?" Carson was a bit slow on the uptake. Of course, two days of trying to keep up with Atlantis' most demanding patient explained a lot.

"Red Jell-O is nice." Rodney said matter-of-factly.

The doctor's deep bone-weary sigh told John that Rodney was very likely to be discharged very soon.

Yep, everything was slowly getting back to normal, or -well- at least as normal as things went in the Pegasus galaxy.

John couldn't keep his merriment to himself much longer and sneaked quietly back into the hallway, where he had a barely controlled fit of laughter. It wasn't even that funny, definitely not by 'Rodney standards', but it just felt incredibly good to be able to laugh again.

His team member, his best friend, his _brother_ had returned from the death and given him a second change. A change he didn't really deserve, but that had him thanking whatever God watched over the Pegasus Galaxy on his bare knees for this opportunity to set some sadly overdue things straight.

And he so he laughed. Laughed all the worries and sadness away. Laughed until his sides ached and he was desperately gasping for breath. Only then did he calm down, and did his brain start functioning properly again.

And came up with a brilliant idea.

With a silly grin still plastered on his face, John went to his quarters and retrieved a bright red blanket. He patted it affectionately, like a good luck charm at a job well done, and carried it back with him to the infirmary after a quick stop at the commissary. Noticing the privacy screen had now been removed, signalling the doctor was ready with his usual evening check-up exams, he went straight for his friend's bed.

Rodney was slumbering peacefully, an empty bowl with just the faintest traces of a gooey red substance on his bedside table.

John paused for a second to take in the pale and bruised face, his eyes lingering on the butterfly bandages liberally decorating it.

He would easily have been content to just sit there and simply watch the scientist sleep all evening, relishing in the fact that he could still do this, and partly needing to convince himself that this was no dream.

Although asleep, Rodney's face was not motionless. He briefly smacked his lips and sighed happily, no doubt dreaming about either red Jell-O or Samantha Carter, and happily wriggled a bit deeper into his pillow. John was pleased to notice some colour was returning to the pale cheeks, and this time not from a fevered flush.

This was not the lax, waxen face that had reduced the usually composed Elizabeth to unstoppably sobbing her heart out.

Rodney's chest was moving regularly in tandem with his breath, which still held a bit of a wheezing quality to it but already sounded light years better than his earlier hacking coughs that had reminded John of a particularly nasty case of hairballs. The one hand that was resting atop of the blanket twitched slightly, as if reaching for something.

This was not the stiff immobile body that had caused the usually tranquil and peace loving Carson to vehemently curse every deity in two galaxies.

John smiled softly as he took Rodney's hand and squeezed it affirmingly. Long eyelashes fluttered open, revealing blue pools of sleepy dazedness.

This was definitely not the empty stare that had frozen his heart and had kept haunting his thoughts during the past dark time.

These eyes held the spark of life, the spark of genius and the spark of the indefinable that made Rodney Rodney.

The light that replaced the darkness.

"Hey…" His friend whispered, sluggishly blinking away the sleep.

"Hey yourself." John couldn't help the shit-eating grin stretching luxuriously on his face.

Apparently, Rodney found it somewhat disconcerting as he peered up with a puzzled look. "What did you do this time? Steel Elizabeth's bunny slippers, sat on one of Carson's but-numbing euphoria inducing needles, enjoyed one too many of Zelenka's stomach-corroding 'cocktails'…?"

John tried to look mock-affronted, but decided this was no time for their regular horse-play. He was a man on a mission, and time was of essence to pull it off successfully, so he turned serious as he settled himself comfortably on the bed's edge.

John's suddenly unusually grave expression gave Rodney even more the creeps, and the scientist tried to strive to regain some levity. "Who died?" He joked.

"You did." John said in an emotionless voice, and Rodney winced visibly as he realized he had once again unknowingly blurted out something utterly insensitive.

"Sorry, I…" He started, but John's finger on his lips stalled any forthcoming excuses.

"Just for once in your life, Rodney, " the major smiled briefly, "don't talk back and just listen to me for a minute."

Rodney blinked fast, frowned slightly and then nodded.

"Okay. "John continued, "It's highly overdue that I'm telling you this… I believe we have all been taking some pretty important things for granted in the past. Things I have recently been beating myself up for not telling you when I still had the chance. And now that I'm given that chance, I'm going to plunge right in, before I get too scared to jump in again…

Rodney, no matter whatever wrong impressions we may have given you in the past, you _are_ invaluable to us.

You are a highly respected member of this expedition, a very loyal team member and a most dependable friend. Your know-it-all attitude and your sheer stubborn determination may have annoyed me to no end, but they have also saved us on numerous occasions, and for that I, for one, am extremely grateful.

But there is one thing I missed more when you were … gone…, more than the brilliant scientist with his knack for saving the day."

John swallowed and took a deep breath, steadfastly holding Rodney's attentive stare.

"I missed my best friend. Over time you have inconspicuously wormed your way into my heart and in doing so you have inadvertently reopened old wounds I thought were healed. But they weren't, and the pain was just too much to bear… So I pushed you away. I tried so hard to shut you out that I failed to notice how badly you were hurting yourself… "

Unusually unguarded blue eyes revealed in their depths an amazing understanding and trust, and John allowed his own shields to drop.

And in the one moment of silence that followed, more was said than a lifetime filled with the most eloquent words could ever express.

The annoyed voice of an overworked nurse berating someone drifting down from the hallway effectively shattered the magic of the moment.

John breathed deeply, feeling much lighter than in a long, long while. It felt good to get things of his chest once in a while, he mused. He could almost feel some of the wounds in his heart mending…

Suddenly, he realised it was quiet. Too quiet.

His gaze snapped back to Rodney, who had apparently dozed off again.

"Well, that's the thanks a guy gets for baring his emotions…" He muttered mock-peevishly, though quietly enough not to disturb his slumbering friend.

Of course he's tired, John silently berated himself, _he_ is injured and doped up to his ears and you just couldn't wait with the heavy-duty mushy talk because _you_ were afraid of losing your guts, you big coward.

But when he shifted slightly with the intention of settling himself somewhat comfortably in the nearby chair, a soft reply stopped him. "Well, listening to you going Oprah Winfrey on me is highly disconcerting and equally tiring…"

John grinned at the barely visible slits of blue peeking from between long eyelashes.

"Cherish it, McKay, I only do the Winfrey-thing once every 30 years!"

"Great" Rodney slurred and yawned deliberately "How far in advance can we book days off again?"

The silly smile was back full force on John's face, and Rodney cracked his eyes open a bit further, suddenly feeling less tired and more curious with every passing second.

"What do you say about blowing this popsicle stand?" John raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "Here, catch!"

A red blur landed across Rodney's chest. Absentmindedly he rubbed the soft fabric, recognizing it as his 'outdoor' blanket. Then Sheppard was beside him, invitingly patting a quickly confiscated wheelchair, and his sleep-dazed brain finally understood. He grinned appreciatively and –with some help from the major- was installed comfortably in the wheelchair (IV lines neatly included) far quicker than John had thought him capable off.

And when an irritatedly grumbling nurse entered the infirmary, holding a cup of blue Jell-O and getting ready to speak her mind about stubborn Canadian scientists who demanded a second helping of red Jell-O and daft commissary workers who had run out of said colour, she found it suspiciously empty.

The waning light of the dying sun gave the corridors of Atlantis a special soft golden glow. John suddenly noticed how prettily the quickly changing light played in the decorative wall panels. Yes, the world surely was beautiful, but at this moment the most appealing sight was that of a snoozing scientist securely tucked in a wheelchair under a bright red blanket.

John felt very much at peace, and even the sudden appearance of dr. Pain-In-The-Ass Kavanaugh didn't burst his little personal bubble of Nirvana. It did wake up McKay, though, and bleary blue eyes wearily followed the grumbling man as he approached them swiftly, typing furiously away on a touch screen.

He nearly ran into them too, but Sheppard's cheerful 'hello' made him stop death in his tracks, with a particularly comical deer-in-the-headlights look.

John smiled beatifically. "Good evening, doctor. Busy, I see?"

Kavanaugh turned pink, swallowed and tried to look dignified: "Zelenka asked me to fix some of the doors' misbehaving access panels. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Sure," John drawled, "You'll all be pretty busy, now that the chief of science is back to watch your …ehm … ass again…"

Kavanaugh turned a very intriguing shade of red before disappearing so quickly that this time, there was no need to sprint to a conveniently nearby transporter. The agonizing pain in Rodney's still healing lungs was well worth the shared bout of hilarious laughter. Finally, acute lack of oxygen calmed him down somewhat, and John frowned lightly at the increased wheezing quality of his friend's breathing. "You okay?"

Breath still mostly elusive, Rodney could only nod, but the infectious grin convinced John that it had definitely been worth 'casually' leaking some information to Radek…

Still chuckling quietly, they finally arrived at John's intended destination, a desolate balcony with two loungers and an alien pot plant.

After being transferring to his usual lounger, Rodney sighed happily, thinking the only thing still missing now was his usual cup of coffee and a snack.

John grinned, and as if he could read minds, chose that exact moment to pull out 2 cups of the elusive red Jell-O.

No words were spoken, and none were needed, as they enjoyed their snack and each other's company while the Sun crept steadily lower.

There would be a beautiful sunset this evening, and John was planning on savouring every moment of it with his best friend, his brother…

* * *

_(yes, this time it's really, truly, the) END_


End file.
